


Edo

by LdyBastet



Category: Nemuri Kyôshirô | Sleepy Eyes of Death (by Shibata Renzaburô)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27605083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LdyBastet/pseuds/LdyBastet
Summary: An ordinary day for Nemuri Kyôshirô - a random meeting, a random temptation.
Kudos: 1





	Edo

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little ficlet to ease my way into the world and mind of Kyôshirô-sama, before I start writing something longer.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Nemuri Kyôshirô is created by Shibata Renzaburô, and I only play with the character for fun. No disrespect intended and I earn no money from my writing.

Nemuri strolled down the street, a steady stream of people jostling past him. A small boy bumped into him, mumbled a hasty excuse and set off again, the parcel in his hands held high above his head to protect its contents from being crushed. It was mid-morning, and the shops were all open, the shop-keepers sweeping the street outside their shop fronts while greeting the occasional customer, bidding them welcome. Nemuri’s eye was caught by a flash of colour among the drab grey, black, and dark blue work attires. 

A woman was examining the goods of a small sweets shop, and as Nemuri came closer, he could make out the delicate features of her face - a small nose, rounded cheeks, pale skin, and berry-red lips that practically begged to be kissed. Their gazes met for a moment, and Nemuri gave her a slight nod as he got closer.

"Kyôshirô-sama, isn’t it?" Her voice was as sweet as the smell of the syrup the shop-keeper drizzled over whatever it was she’d decided upon. He stopped.

"Yes." Standing this close to her, he could smell the luxurious fragrance she was wearing. It was so out of place that he had to smile. What errand did an upper-class woman have that took her to this district? Was it boredom? Or did she have a reason? Nemuri waited for her next move.

"Won’t you taste this? It’s delicious." She put her hand lightly on his arm and held out the little dish. 

He looked down at her hand. Dainty fingers with well-manicured nails that had surely never had to cook, clean, or mend. "No thank you. I don’t eat sweets."

"Oh." She pulled her hand back, leaving behind a lingering warmth. "Perhaps some tea then?" She gestured to the waiting shop-keeper, who smiled toothlessly and started the preparations.

The inside of the sweets shop was small but cosy, just three tables large. The wooden surfaces had dark stains from spilled syrup and steaming cups, but were otherwise clean. The hot tea they served was rich, bitter, and unpoisoned - just like Nemuri preferred it. "What do you want?" he asked. 

The woman looked down at her hands, perhaps thinking that acting coy would make him interested. "I need you to help me," she replied finally, and she raised her gaze to look at him, eyes misted with tears that were called on too quickly to be sincere.

Nemuri shrugged. "But I don’t need to help you. Thanks for the tea." He stood up and stuck his sword back into his belt. "Have a nice day."

The smell of her perfume and the oil that kept her hair meticulously coiffed and shiny stayed in his memory the rest of the day. Perhaps he should have listened to what her problem was? After all, she was beautiful, and ladies that were that desperate for help could often be convinced to give a particularly delicious payment for the service.

The question now was whether she would be back to try to persuade him or send someone to challenge or murder him. Nemuri had stepped into these traps more times than he cared to count, but she would at least have to work a little for it. That day he had other things to do, like eating a bowl of soba noodles at his favourite food stall.

"Kyôshirô-sama! Welcome!"

"Good evening, Otsuya-bo." He sat down, and the smile the girl wore as she put the bowl in front of him was sweeter than anything money could buy.


End file.
